


Now With Wings

by dragonflybeach



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, M/M, SPN J2 Secret Santa, Season/Series 12, Wayward Daughters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 05:04:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8954752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonflybeach/pseuds/dragonflybeach
Summary: One day, Sam Winchester thinks, his brother will know better than to handle objects he finds locked in curse boxes.Today obviously was not that day.(containers slight spoiler for season 12, episode 5)





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was my SPN-J2 Christmas Fic Exchange Gift for Psynatural. I was able to incorporate a couple prompts and several likes, so I hope you like it!

 

 

"Dean, how many times do I have to tell you not to touch things until you know for sure that they're not going to kill you?"

 

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, this one didn't try to _kill_ me."

 

Sam groaned out loud. "Well maybe not try to kill you. But. Don't you remember how much trouble you got into the last time you messed with a tiny lady with wings?"

 

"This one didn't have nipples." Dean pointed at him.

 

"Maybe if you hadn't been trying to _see_ her nipples, you wouldn't be in this situation!" Sam said, flipping another page in the folder he found in the MoL files.

 

"I wasn't trying to see her nipples!" Dean protested. "I was trying to look for some kind of maker marking or date stamp or whatever. You know, some of the stuff here has made us good money on eBay!"

 

"Dean." Sam sighed overly dramatically. "When you find a porcelain doll locked in an iron box in a bunker full of dangerous objects, you don't take it out and try to strip it naked!"

 

"Okay, well I'll keep that in mind next time, but at the moment, bitching about it isn't helping!" Dean huffed. "What are you finding in the file?"

 

Sam poked the iron box with his knife to turn it. "This is a listing of the documentation that goes along with the items kept in the curseboxes. _This_ doesn't actually tell me anything. It tells me where to go look for the paperwork regarding the doll."

 

"So why are you not going to get the paperwork regarding the doll?" Dean asked.

 

"Dude!" Sam slapped his hand down on the paper. "Because there are dozens of curseboxes listed here! Some of them describe the contents, but some of them just have numbers. I've got to figure out which one this is because getting the wrong information could be even worse!"

 

"Like this could get worse!" Dean shouted.

 

"You could be dead!" Sam shouted back.

 

"I wouldn't stay dead!" Dean argued. "We never do!"

 

"Billie said this time ... " Sam began.

 

"Billie is a reaper, not God!" Dean interrupted. "I fixed God's family drama. And. _I killed Hitler_."

 

Sam threw up his hands. "Is that going to be your answer for everything now?"

 

"I think it should be." Dean answered smugly.

 

"Well then, how about you could grow horns or get possessed or your dick could fall off?" Sam countered.

 

Dean winced as his hands went to his lap. "Okay, that could be worse. But seriously Sam. These things are really uncomfortable. Do you think you could read a little faster?"

 

"Why don't you call Cas?" Sam suggested. "I mean, he would be the expert."

 

"And tell him what?" Dean snorted. "That I sprouted wings?"

 

"Well, you did." Sam shrugged.

 

"Sam!"

 

"Maybe he could offer some suggestions until I can figure out how to reverse it." Sam said. "I mean, he has to have some idea how to ... I dunno ... take care of them, relieve some of the pressure on your back, put clothes on over them ... "

 

"Yeah, I'm gonna go find whoever made that movie with John Travolta wearing clothes over his wings and _shoot them_!" Dean shouted the last two words, leaning over the table and stretching his back.

 

"Nora Ephron." Sam offered without looking up. "She's already dead."

 

"Yeah, well then I'm gonna dig her up for a salt and burn!" Dean snapped.

 

"Let me know how you're going to manage to drive out there." Sam grinned mischieviously. "Since your wings stick up over your head and would hit the roof of the car."

 

"Bite me, Sam!" Dean flipped him off.

 

"At least they're attached to your upper back so you can wear pants." Sam said, turning another page.

 

"They tore through two of my best shirts!" Dean said.

 

"You got those shirts at Goodwill in Witchita." Sam snorted.

 

"Yeah, but they didn't have any holes in them and didn't smell like burnt bodies or monster goo." Dean grumbled. "I can't sit down without sitting on feathers and that hurts like hell! They're pulling on muscles I didn't even know I had!"

 

"And you're whining like a baby." Sam sighed, flipping another page. "If you're not going to call Cas or help me look through this, why don't you go lay down?"

 

Dean stretched again, rolling his shoulders, causing the wings to flutter and a few stray feathers to float in the air.

 

"Showoff." Sam muttered under his breath.

 

"Yeah, all right." Dean nodded. "I'm gonna go lay down and see if I can get the pressure off my back. Let me know when you find something."

 

Three hours later, Dean was awakened by a text from Claire.

 

He opened the message to find a picture of himself, laying face down asleep on his bed in pretty much the same position he woke up in. However, in addition to wings, someone had photoshopped a harp next to his hand and a halo on his head.

 

"Sam!" he bellowed.

 

They met halfway down the hall.

 

"You wanna explain this?" Dean shouted, holding his phone out.

 

Sam almost laughed but managed to catch himself in time.

 

"I, uh, I found the papers that went with that curse box but I couldn't read them ..."

 

"Why not?" Dean asked.

 

"Because they're in some obscure dialect of Ottoman Turkish!" Sam rolled his eyes. "There's even a note with them from some Men of Letters member saying they were having extreme difficulty finding a translation. So I sent Garth a message to see if he could help, and sent him a picture of the wings so he could see what we're dealing with."

 

"What did Garth say?" Dean said, walking past Sam toward the kitchen.

 

"He suggested that we find a medium and try to call up Rufus Turner." Sam answered.

 

"Rufus?" Dean frowned, opening a beer.

 

"Yeah, apparently he was into The Crusades and was fluent in Ottoman languages." Sam shrugged. "So that's a long shot at best, because if we can find a medium and contact Rufus, how are we going to get him this stuff to read?"

 

Dean tilted his head in concession and took another pull off his beer.

 

"Garth is going to go through whatever resources he has and see if he can find us anything to help." Sam continued.

 

Dean nodded, rolling his shoulders and fluttering his wings again.

 

"So, I called Cas and asked him to come." Sam added. "He's about a 10 hour drive out. He'll be here as soon as he can."

 

"And how does this explain the fact Claire ended up with a picture of me with wings?" Dean asked.

 

"I, uh, sent a copy of the picture to Jody." Sam admitted, grinning. "I figured she would have to see this to believe it."

 

Just then Dean's phone dinged again.

 

It was a message from Donna, that read " _OOOOOOOH!!!! Are those REAL??!?!?!_ "

 

"Um, yeah. I'm just gonna go, uh yeah." Sam said, heading back to the library.

 

Dean's phone dinged again, this time with a message from Mom.

 

" _I always said you were my little angel_."

 

"Sam!" he shouted.

 

Sam's phone dinged from down the hall.

 

"Mom says she doesn't know anyone who speaks Turkish or any experts on fairy curses that are still alive." Sam said, his voice getting closer. "She's outside Portland, but she offered to swing through and check her dad's compound for anything." Sam peeked around the doorframe, then turned and left. "I better tell her that we moved most of the Campbell library here." Sam called as he walked away again.

 

He didn't see Dean's rude hand gesture.

 

 

 

Nothing much changed through the rest of the evening.

 

Sam worked on translating the papers, occasionally stopping to exchange messages with Garth.

 

Dean was able to finally sit down, if he turned the chair backwards and Sam helped him arrange his wings so that he didn't sit on them.

 

He researched fairy curses because he couldn't find anything on wing-creating spells or curses in general.

 

Around midnight, they were both tired, frustrated, and irritable, so they called it a night.

 

About 7am, someone knocked on the door.

 

And continued knocking when no one made an attempt to answer it.

 

"I thought you gave Cas a key!" Sam shouted at Dean's bedroom door as he walked down the hall.

 

"I did!" Dean said, opening his door but not coming out of his room. "He better not have lost it!"

 

Sam opened the door, but instead of Cas on the other side, it was Jody, Donna, Claire, and Alex.

 

"Uh, ladies?" Sam frowned. "I'm always happy to see you, but ..."

 

Donna pushed in the door first and hugged him.

 

"Oh we weren't home, silly." Donna said. "Jodes and the girls and I were in Lincoln at the gun show. When Jody got your message, we figured we would come see if we could help."

 

"Oh bullshit." Alex snorted. "We came to gawk in person."

 

"We were running out of jokes to make about the Damsel in Defense booth." Claire shrugged. "This seemed a lot more interesting."

 

Jody hugged Sam next. "You know we'd do anything we can to help but we ... holy shit."

 

Alex and Donna's mouths had actually dropped open and Claire's eyes were about to pop out of her head.

 

Sam nodded, turning around and gesturing to Dean. "Yeah. Now with wings."

 

Dean ruined his angelic appearance by making a face and flipping Sam off.

 

"Wow." Alex said.

 

"Dean, I don't know if this is the right thing to say, but they're gorgeous." Jody frowned and shrugged.

 

Dean rolled his eyes, and then rolled his shoulders, fluttering the wings.

 

Donna's eyes got even bigger as the deep peacock blue wings shimmered in the light.

 

"So how big do they get?" Claire asked. "You know, like if you open them up."

 

"Oh my god Claire I can't believe you asked that." Alex muttered.

 

"You wanted to, you were just too chicken." Claire smirked.

 

"I don't even know how to open them up." Dean huffed. "They're a pain in the ass. Every time I try to sit down I sit on them unless Sam helps me. They pull on my back and I leave a trail of feathers everywhere."

 

"Aww, poor baby." Jody said sarcastically with a half grin.

 

"And I can't put a shirt on." Dean continued to grumble. "I have to sleep face down. I can't ... "

 

"Dean, please, eat a Snickers." Claire rolled her eyes.

 

"When you sprout wings, then you ..." Dean began.

 

"We have better sense than to play with cursed objects." Alex said.

 

"I wasn't playing with it!" Dean shouted.

 

"All right." Jody held up her hands. "Enough, children, all of you. To the kitchen. We'll be in better moods after coffee and breakfast. I presume you do have food here?"

 

"Are you going to cook?" Sam asked hopefully.

 

"I might." Jody smiled at him.

 

"Okay, everyone to the kitchen then." Dean said, herding them along. 

 

Jody and Donna made pancakes and sausage for everyone.

 

Afterwards, Alex and Claire cleared the table while Sam and Jody pulled out books.

 

"So, we have a partial translation." Sam announced.

 

"And?" Dean gestured for him to continue.

 

"They're not fairy wings. They're angel wings." Sam shifted from one foot to the other. "Which means Cas was probably the right person to call. Hopefully he'll be here soon."

 

"Angel wings?" Dean frowned. "Dude, they were _purple_."

 

"From what Garth and I can make out of the papers, an early 19th century sultan had a favorite mistress named Manula who was either a nephilim or possibly the child of an angel and nephilim. A witch killed her and tried to take her grace. It didn't work the way the witch thought and the grace ended up in the doll, which is cursed. The sultan kept the doll with him the rest of his life, trying to find a way to resurrect Manula, or free her spirit from the doll so they could be together in the afterlife." Sam explained.

 

"So how did we go from a doll with wings to _me_ with wings?" Dean asked.

 

"That's where the translation gets ... well ..." Sam made a face. "Honestly, it translates into nonsense."

 

"So what do we do?" Donna asked.

 

"I'm going to give you my iPad with Charlie's codex algorithm." Sam told her. "It will try plugging in different combinations of letters and phrases in case the document is in code for some reason. Jody, I want you to research the sultan, see what we can find out on him to see if there's anything helpful. Alex and Claire, I want the two of you to research curses involving wings. I'll take angel lore and specifically nephilims. Garth is going to try switching out some letters and words to see if maybe there was a transcription error on the documents. Dean." he sighed. I guess work on whatever you think would be the most helpful."

 

“Yeah, first I got to walk around for a minute.” Dean said. “My back is getting stiff again.”

 

He stood and headed down the hallway.

 

They had barely started working when the front door slammed.

 

"Sam! Dean!" Cas hurried down the stairs. "I got here as soon as I could. There was an overturned truck on Highway 81."

 

"In here, Cas." Sam called back. "I think you know everyone but Donna."

 

"This is Cas, the angel?" Donna asked.

 

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." Cas said without really looking at her. "Where's Dean?"

 

"Dean!" both Sam and Claire shouted for him, but Claire added "Your boyfriend is here."

 

When Dean stepped into the room, Cas grabbed the back of the nearest chair.

 

The angel’s eyes went wide, his face flushed, his shoulders dropped, and he swallowed hard.

 

“Cas?” Dean asked a bit uncertainly.

 

"They're beautiful." Cas gasped, unable to stop staring at the wings.

 

“Everyone seems to have that reaction.” Dean shrugged, fluttering the wings, and Cas swallowed visibly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Except Sammy, who said something like ‘Are you freaking kidding me?’”

 

"One thing we don’t understand.” Sam said, carefully opening the box enough for Cas to get a peek. “The wings on the doll were light purple. But Dean's wings are dark blue.”

 

Cas looked briefly, but his attention snapped back to Dean.

 

"Anael." Cas almost whispered, reverently. "The feathers of the doll's wings came from Anael. All higher order angels have different colors of wings. Dean's wings are the color of Michael's wings. Gabriel's were gold. Raphael's were green."

 

"Lucifer's are white." Sam added softly.

 

Cas nodded, still staring at Dean's wings. "Dean is Michael's true vessel, so his wings manifest as Michael's wings."

 

"So if Sam had been the one to mess with the doll, he would have sprouted white wings?" Jody asked, giving Cas the side eye.

 

"Most likely." Cas agreed. “I do not understand. I was not aware of Anael fathering a nephilim. Most angels would never do so as it is expressly forbidden, and Anael was always extremely obedient. The only two angels I knew of who had nephilim were Gabriel and Balthazar.”

 

“Which means we need to figure out where Anael was and what he was doing in the late 18th to early 19th century.” Donna suggested, pushing the tablet aside.  

 

“More like who he was doing.” Claire said. “The mother may have been a witch or something.”

 

"Perhaps we should call Crowley." Cas offered.

 

"Crowley?" Sam asked.

 

"Oh hell no!" Dean shook his head.

 

"He did spend a considerable number of years in Mesopotamia. Perhaps he can help with the translation. He would have had a reason to keep an eye on angels." Cas said, taking his phone from his pocket and stepping out of the room.

 

"Who is Crowley and why do you not want his help?" Jody asked.

 

"He's the King of Hell." Sam shrugged. "He's a dick. He's the one who turned Dean into a demon and stole him. We’ve worked together a few times and we've tried to kill each other a few times."

 

"Yeah, doesn't sound like the person I would invite to help." Jody nodded.

 

"He owes us." Cas said, returning to the room with a shorter man in a black suit.

 

"Roderick?" Jody asked.

 

"Jody." Crowley smiled. "How lovely and spectacularly awkward to see you again."

 

Jody stomped from the room.

 

"Moose. Glad I can still depend on you for the poor fashion choices." Crowley looked at Donna and the girls. "I don't know who you are, but I'm presuming more hunters, based on the fact you've obviously allowed the Winchesters to dress you." Crowley turned to Dean and raised one eyebrow. "Dean. All these years I've been calling you Squirrel, and it turns out you were really a cockatiel."

 

Alex burst into laughter.

 

Donna blushed.

 

Claire rolled her eyes. "Did you just?" she asked.

 

Jody returned to the room with an angel blade.

 

"Whoa!" Sam knocked over most of the books on the table but managed to grab Jody around the waist with one arm, lifting her off the floor, and twisting the blade out of her hand with his other.

 

“Well.” Crowley said, straightening his coat. “I do love feisty women, but there is a time and place for everything. Please let me know how the matter resolves.”

 

He snapped his fingers and disappeared.

 

“You two know each other?” Dean asked Jody.

 

Sam released her.

 

“We went on a date. He tried to kill me with a hex bag in my purse.” She said, bending to pick up some of the books that had fallen. “Sorry about scaring him off.”

 

“Yeah, but it was three years ago.” Sam said, kneeling down to pick up a few more.

 

Jody went still, and then put her hands on her hips. “Wait. You _knew_ about that?”

 

“Uh, we knew he tried to kill you.” Sam answered sheepishly. “We didn’t know you had actually met him face to face.”

 

“We stopped him.” Dean added.

 

 Jody huffed. “First, we get you de-winged. _Then_ , we are going to have a long talk.”

 

Sam and Dean both had sense enough to look repentant.

 

“Okay,” Claire said. “So I’m going to see if I can find anything on an angel named Anael.”

 

“I’ll leave the algorithm running, but I’m going to get my laptop and see if I can find anything on Manula or her family.” Donna told them. “Jodes, I think you need to keep researching the sultan.”

 

“Yeah, good plan.” Dean nodded. “Cas, can I put powder or something on these wings? Some spots are starting to get itchy.”

 

“I can … “ Cas stared at the wings again. “I can help you with them.”

 

“Okay, come on.” Dean led the way to his bedroom.

 

He stopped when he opened the door.

 

“Seriously?” he grumbled.

 

He picked up a green box that proclaimed to be Always Ultra Thin Maxi Pads with Wings. He walked back to the library and threw it at Sam’s head.

 

"Very funny ladies." Dean said. "Whichever one of you gave those to Sam for him to leave on my bed."

 

"I didn't leave them there." Sam shook his head.

 

“They’re not mine.” Donna told them.

 

"Not mine neither." Jody said.

 

"I wish I had thought of it." Alex smirked.

 

"I didn't leave them, but I'm damn sure taking them." Claire announced, picking up the package. "These are the good kind."

 

“Right. Whatever.” Dean snorted.

 

“Sam, you might want to take a look at this.” Jody said, pushing a book across the table.

 

Dean went back to his room, leaving Sam and Jody to sort out whatever it was.

 

“These wings are killing my back.” Dean complained. “Both from carrying around the weight of them, and from scratching my skin. How the hell do you fly with these things?”

 

“Actual angel wings exist in the manner our true form exists.” Cas explained. “They’re not physically present in this plane of existence, which means they are not heavy to us.” He gently moved Dean’s right wing aside to look at his back. “Some of your feathers are dry. That’s why they’re scratching your skin. The naturally occurring oils should be spread evenly across the feathers, both to keep them from damaging your skin, and for the health of the feathers themselves.”

 

“How am I supposed to do that?” Dean asked.

 

“I’ll help you.” Cas offered.

 

He put both hands on the wing, just where it joined to Dean’s back, and rubbed the feathers gently.

 

Dean drew a deep breath.

 

“Does that hurt?” Cas asked.

 

“No, uh, no.” Dean said huskily, and then coughed to clear his throat. “It feels like when someone runs their fingers through your hair. I don’t actually feel in it the wings, I feel it where the feathers attach.”

 

“That’s an accurate statement.” Cas nodded. “Feathers themselves do not have nerves, but the follicles do.”

 

He continued to stroke Dean’s feathers, moving from one wing to the other, until Dean’s cheeks were flushed and he was shifting his legs restlessly.

 

“If I am irritating you, tell me and I will stop.” Cas said.

 

“It’s not, um, not irritating.” Dean replied. “It feels, uh,feels good.”

 

Cas looked down to the noticeable bulge at the front of Dean’s jeans. “You find this arousing.”

 

“Do angels not pop a boner when someone rubs their wings?” Dean asked defensively.

 

“My true form is a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent.” He shrugged. “It does not have a penis.”

 

“Yeah.” Dean nodded, turning away.   

 

“Dean.”

Cas moved his hand from Dean’s wing to his shoulder.

 

“Seeing you react in this way is arousing to me.” Cas said softly.

 

Dean turned to face him. They each took a step forward, and Dean leaned in.

 

The first meeting of their lips was soft and gentle. Dean’s hands came up to brush through Cas’ hair. Cas’s hands stroked softly over Dean’s wings.

 

Dean groaned deep in his throat, putting his hands at Cas’ waist and pulling him closer. Cas’ hands slipped to Dean’s hips, then to his ass.

 

Cas parted his lips to allow Dean’s tongue inside and ground his pelvis against Dean.

 

“Cas.” Dean whispered, breaking the kiss.

 

There was a sudden commotion from the library, the sounds of books, metal, and possibly something glass hitting the floor and several loud voices talking over one another.

 

“We better see who’s killing who this time.” Dean groaned.

 

They  rushed to the room, to find that Sam had apparently shoved everything aside to clear a spot on one of the big tables. He had drawn a circle divided into fourths and was furiously scribbling Enochian sigils in the quadrants.

 

Donna, Claire, and Jody returned from different directions, each with trinkets, herbs, or bowls in their hands. Sam took this items and began arranging them around the circle as Alex brought him the lighter she had just used to light a circle of oil.

 

"Sam, what are you doing?" Dean asked.

 

Sam didn't answer, just continued arranging the items and writing.

 

Cas stepped closer to see what he had written, and then looked up at Sam in confusion.

 

"Sam, he's dead." Cas said.

 

"No. I don't think so." Sam shook his head, and then lit the herbs in the bowl.

 

Gabriel stood on the other side of the table in the center of the holy oil, and gave Sam a slow clap.

 

"What gave it away, Sammy?" the angel asked.

 

"The sultan died before porcelain dolls were invented." Sam announced, folding his arms in front of him. "Dean got his just desserts from messing with that doll. And who else would leave maxi pads around?"

 

“Fair enough.” Gabriel nodded. “You always were smarter than the average bear.”

 

“Gabriel.” Cas began but was cut off by Jody, who had the angel blade in her hand again.

 

“Fix Dean.” She said.

 

“There’s no need for all the hostility.” Gabriel shrugged holding out his hands. “If Dean wants to get rid of the wings, I can take them back. Tomorrow. Or maybe the day after. Whenever Cassie here has satisfied his wing kink.”

 

“His wing kink?” Sam asked.

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Really? I mean, I know Castiel _always_ has sex hair, but did you not look at the two of them when they came running in here? Flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and oh, hello! _Erections_!”

 

Everyone turned to look at Dean and Cas, who both looked ready to kill Gabriel.

 

“Sammy, your brother and my brother have been angsting over boning each other for what, almost ten years now?” Gabriel gestured at them. “You know it, I know it, the ladies here know it, everyone who’s ever met these two chuckleheads knows it! I just gave them a little shove in the right direction and they sure took it!”

 

Sam looked from Gabriel, to Dean and Cas, and back to Gabriel, breaking into an amused smirk.

 

“Listen here, you feathered dick … “ Dean began.

 

Gabriel waved his hand like a magician and a scroll appeared between his thumb and finger. He held it out toward Sam.

 

“Here’s the spell to reverse the wings. It’s pretty simple, and everything you need is here in the bunker. You can do it whenever Deano and Cas are ready.”

 

Sam walked around the table, took the scroll, and opened it. He skimmed down the page quickly and then looked up at Dean. “It looks like it should work.” He confirmed.

 

Gabriel waved his hand again and held out a key to Sam. “Room 107 at the Buckshot Inn on Highway 36.”

 

“You got them a room?” Sam asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

“No, I got you a room.” Gabriel snickered. “They _need_ to stay here. The two of them going to a motel would probably end with blown out windows and electrical transformers.”

 

“Good point.” Sam agreed.

 

“Well, if that’s that, I think we are going to head for home.” Jody announced. “Dean, Cas, uh, yeah. I can’t even think of anything appropriate to say right now.”

 

“Good luck you two!” Donna grinned.

 

“Do we need to talk about safe sex?” Claire asked sweetly.

 

“I think we can handle it.” Dean said, blushing all the way out to the tips of his ears.

 

The ladies hadn’t brought any of their luggage in, so it took them only a few minutes to gather their things and leave.

 

Claire took the maxi pads.

 

Sam quickly packed a duffle and grabbed his laptop before pouring water on the burning holy oil to let Gabriel out.

 

“You know where I’m going to be.” Sam told Dean and Cas. “Call me if you need anything. But make sure you’re dressed before I get here.”

 

“Just me and you for the weekend, Sammy!” Gabriel slapped him on the shoulder.

 

“No.” Sam said, heading up the stairs.

 

Gabriel hurried behind him. “We’ll have a blast!”

 

“No.” Sam repeated.

 

“Don’t be like that, Sam! I know this place … “

 

“No.”

 

Cas turned to Dean as the front door closed behind them.

 

“Come on, I’ll show you what I learned from the pizza man.”

**Author's Note:**

> FYI - those are the actual colors associated with the wings of the mentioned angels in lore.


End file.
